*CHAPTER 6 : THE GRAND CONSORT*
"Come inside," Lord Zhào YùXuān said, way too loud, like he was announcing a battle. "You must be tired from the journey. We have prepared rooms for you all. And my mother is eager to meet you."
_He's shouting. Why is he shouting. We're right here._
_Is he performing. Is this a performance. For who. Mother?_
_Ugh. Adults._
Mother nodded, her hand tightening briefly on mine. "Thank you, Lord Zhao."
We followed them into the main hall, our footsteps echoing on the stone floor. The hall was large and austere — dark wood beams, high ceilings, weapons mounted on the walls as decoration. Not paintings of flowers. Spears. Swords. Bows. It smelled of wood oil and clean air, not incense.
Lì stopped dead. Pointed. "Is that a real war hammer from the Beirong campaign?"
Chén yanked him forward by his collar. "Lì. Manners."
"But it IS—"
"Later."
_I want to look too. But I'm the Su heiress. I have to pretend I've seen war hammers before._
_I haven't. That thing is huge. Who lifts that._
At the far end of the hall, seated on a raised platform on a chair of dark rosewood, was an old woman.
She was small, her hair completely white and pulled back in a severe bun, held with a single jade pin. She wore robes of deep grey silk, simple, no embroidery. Her face was lined, her hands gnarled on the armrests. But her eyes — her eyes were sharp and bright as a hawk's.
_Oh. That's a grandma who wins arguments. All of them._
_If she tells me to jump, I'm asking how high. While in the air._
This was the Grand Consort. The Zhao Patriarch's mother. The Regent Prince's grandmother.
Oh shit she's also the Emperor's mom.
Wait does that make Lord Zhao and the Emperor siblings .
Hmm..
Everyone stopped. We bowed, low and proper.
"Grand Consort," Mother said, her voice respectful.
The old woman studied us, one by one. Her gaze lingered on Mother, then moved to me, then to my brothers, then to MěiLíng.
Then she smiled. It transformed her face, softened all the lines.
"Come here, children," she said, her voice surprisingly warm, a little rough with age. "Let me see you properly. Come closer, don't be shy."
Míng tried to become one with Mother's skirts. She just sighed and peeled him off.
_Relatable. I also want to become one with Mother's skirts._
We approached the platform, uncertain. She reached out a hand to Hán Míng first. "And who is this little one?"
"Hán Míng, Grand Consort," Míng whispered, bowing again.
She chuckled and patted his cheek, her hand papery and warm. "You have your grandfather's eyes, child. General Su's eyes. Good. Strong eyes." She looked at Chén and Lì. "And you must be the scholars. Good. A house needs both swords and books."
Lì perked up. "I'm not a scholar! I'm a—"
"—menace," Chén said.
"—swordsman!" Lì finished, glaring at Chén.
The Grand Consort's mouth twitched. "We have plenty of swords. Try not to trip on them."
_Lì went red. I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh._
_Okay. I like her._
She turned to MěiLíng, and her smile didn't falter, but her eyes… her eyes saw more. "And you, child. You are the adopted daughter. MěiLíng, yes?"
MěiLíng curtsied, perfect and low. "Yes, Grand Consort. It is an honor to meet you."
"Mm," the Grand Consort said. She tilted her head. "You have careful hands, child. Like you're used to arranging things. Carefully. So they fall where you want."
_MěiLíng's eyelid twitched. I SAW IT._
_Did Grand Consort just… call her out. In grandma speak._
_I need to write this down. For later._
Then her gaze came to me. "And you are JiāYì. The real daughter."
_The real daughter. The legitimate one. The only Su heir._
_Grandfather would like her. He always said "say it plain"._
I bowed. "Yes, Grand Consort."
She studied my face for a long moment. "You look like your mother. Good. She was always the prettiest of the Su girls, and the smartest. Don't let anyone tell you different." She reached out and took my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "Welcome to the Zhao house, child. You are safe here."
_Safe. She said it like an order. Like it's not up for debate._
_My chest did something weird. Like a knot untying._
_Stop. Don't cry. Sixteen-year-old heiresses don't cry. They glare._
Something in my chest loosened. I hadn't realized how tight it was until that moment. "Thank you, Grand Consort."
She finally turned to Mother, and her expression softened completely. "RuìXī. My dear girl. Come here."
Mother went to her and knelt by the platform, taking the old woman's hands. "Grand Consort."
"You foolish girl," the Grand Consort said, but there was affection in it. "You should have come to me years ago. When that fool of a husband first started looking at other women. I would have set him straight. With my cane. I still have it."
Mother laughed, a watery sound. "I know. I was stubborn."
"Stubborn like your father," the Grand Consort tutted. "He once tried to argue with me about troop placements. At dinner." She sniffed. "I made him wash the dishes for a month. A general. Washing dishes. He broke three bowls the first night and cried."
Lord Zhao, standing nearby, made a noise like he was dying. "Mother. Please. We have guests."
"What?" she said, not looking at him. "It's educational. Humility. You could use some dishwashing too. You're getting a belly."
_Lord Zhao has a belly. Lord Zhao cried over dishes._
_I am never un-hearing this. This is blackmail material._
_This is the best house._
The Grand Consort cupped Mother's face. "You are home now. Do you understand me? You are home."
Mother nodded, unable to speak.
_Home. She said it again._
_It sounds… real. Here. Not like a word. Like a place._
_I want that. For Mother. For Míng. For me._
---
While they talked, low and intimate, the three Zhao princes sat in one corner of the hall, watching.
Zhào Chányán sat apart, his back straight, his eyes fixed intently on the conversation between his grandmother and Sū RuìXī. He was listening to every word, his face unreadable.
_He's not even blinking. Is he human. Does he need to blink._
_Stop looking at him. He's old. He's scary. He's…_
_Whatever. Not my problem._
Zhào YìChén and Zhào MíngYuǎn sat together on a bench, whispering. Loudly. Badly.
"Dude," MíngYuǎn muttered, elbowing YìChén. "She doesn't look like a gold digger. She looks like she'd punch gold if it insulted her."
YìChén snorted. "You duffer. Obviously. She's General Su's granddaughter. The Su family wipes their ass with honor. They don't need gold. Dad's the one who should be worried. She's out of his league."
"Oh. Right." MíngYuǎn was quiet for a second. Then: "Wait, does Dad know that. Should we tell him. He's out there changing robes like it's his wedding day."
"He changed TWENTY-FIVE robes, MíngYuǎn. I counted. He asked me if 'sapphire blue makes my eyes pop'. Dad. SAPPIRES. He doesn't even know what sapphires are."
_They're talking about their dad. Like he's an idiot._
_With love. But still. Idiot._
_This is so weird. Father would have us flogged for this._
_I think I like weird._
"Did you know," MíngYuǎn whispered, "I heard Sū RuìXī also has a real elder sister who's a consort to the Emperor. Noble Consort Sū, actually. So like… she's basically royalty already. Dad's marrying UP."
YìChén nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Dad bagged a ten and he doesn't even know it. She could have married the Minister of War. Or a dragon. She chose our idiot dad who polishes his boots with his sleeve."
"Language," Chányán said, not turning. His voice was flat. "We have guests. And your grandmother has a cane."
Both of them slammed their mouths shut.
_Gege. They call him gege and they're terrified._
_He didn't even shout. He just… existed. Louder._
_I need to learn that trick._
"You know," MíngYuǎn whispered again, after ten whole seconds of silence, which was probably a record for him, "I think this woman is perfect for Dad."
YìChén grinned. "For controlling Dad?"
"Duh! For making him wear actual clothes! Did you see him this morning. He came down in his training gear and Grandmother said 'are you going to war or to woo a woman' and he went back upstairs for TWO HOURS. He came back wearing a robe with CLOUDS on it. CLOUDS, YìChén. He said it was 'approachable'."
YìChén wheezed. "I told him to wear black. Black is safe. Black says 'I'm serious but not a corpse'. He said 'but is it friendly'. Dad. Asked me. About friendly."
Zhào Chányán's cold voice cut through their giggles. "Want to know some more info about General Su's daughter, huh? You know quite a lot. For two people who were supposed to be sparring."
They froze. Like actual ice.
_I felt that in MY spine. And he's not even mad at me._
_How does he do that. How do I do that._
Chányán stood up, his movements economical. "Aren't you going to welcome your guests? They're new here. Go. Make them feel comfortable. Make sure they are alright. Without gossiping like fishwives."
He looked at them, and his golden eyes were flat. "Now."
"Yes, gege," they said in unison, and practically tripped over each other standing up.
Chányán watched them go, then turned to his father. "I have to go to the palace. Official work."
Lord Zhao nodded, distracted. "Go. And Chányán—"
"I know. Be respectful. Don't brood in corners. Scare the children."
"That's not—" Lord Zhao sighed. "Just… come back for dinner. Your grandmother made soup. Your favorite."
Chányán paused. Then: "…Fine." And left, his boots silent on the stone, his back straight as a sword.
_Soup. The scary Regent Prince likes soup._
_And his dad has to remind him to eat._
_What is this family. Why are they so… real._
---
YìChén and MíngYuǎn looked at each other.
"We have to go upstairs," YìChén sighed. "Be nice. No talking about Dad's cloud robe."
"We do," MíngYuǎn agreed. "Do you think the scholar one likes military history. I have 'The Bloody Campaigns of the Southern Tribes'. There's diagrams. And guts."
"Do NOT show him guts, MíngYuǎn. Give him something normal. Like… do we own anything normal."
"Define normal."
"Not guts."
They headed for the stairs, arguing.
_They're 22 and 19 and they're idiots. Lovable idiots._
_I'm 16 and I feel 40 around them._
_Is this what having brothers is supposed to be like. Noisy. Dumb. Safe._
---
Upstairs, a servant showed us our rooms.
The rooms were in the east wing, overlooking the training grounds. They were not like the Han manor rooms.
My room was spacious, with a large window, a bed of dark wood with clean white linens, a writing desk, a bookshelf already half-filled with books on history and strategy, and a rack for weapons on the wall. The floor was polished wood, covered with a simple woven rug. There was no silk on the walls. No gold. Just clean lines and good craftsmanship. A brazier stood in the corner for warmth.
_My room. Mine._
_Books on strategy. A weapon rack. Empty. For me._
_They didn't give me embroidery silks. They gave me war books._
_Because I'm Su. Because I'm the heiress._
_Because they expect me to be… something._
_I can do something. I think. I want to try._
Chén's room was similar, but the bookshelf was full, and there was a larger desk. He walked in, saw the books, and made a sound like he'd been hit. "Oh."
_Chén's "oh" means he's never leaving. Ever. We'll have to drag him out for meals._
Lì's room had a sword rack that was already filled with practice swords of different weights. He picked one up, swung it. "This is balanced. Who balanced these. This is illegal levels of balanced."
"The Regent Prince, young master," the servant said. "He does all the racks himself. Says if a sword's not balanced, it's not a sword, it's a club."
_The Regent Prince. Balances. Swords. Himself._
_Because of course he does. Because he's perfect and terrifying._
_Whatever. Not my business._
Míng's room was smaller, but had a window seat piled with cushions, and a small wooden horse in the corner. He dove into the cushions. "It's like a cloud! A horse cloud!"
MěiLíng's room was beautiful, but plain. No vanity table with a silver mirror. Just a washstand, a bed, a desk. Her smile was perfect. Her knuckles were white on the doorframe.
We stood in the hallway, looking at our doors.
"Well," Chén said, his scholar's voice careful, "let's see if we like this place or not. Three days. We can endure three days."
"Speak for yourself," Lì said, not looking up from his new sword. "I'm asking if I can sleep in the stables. With the swords."
Míng was already snoring in his cushion nest.
I stood in the doorway of my room, and felt a wave of relief so strong my legs shook. I was happy to be with Mother. I was in a place where the walls didn't feel like they were lying. Where people said what they meant. Where weapons were on the walls because they were used, not because they were pretty.
I looked at my hands and thought, with deep gratitude, _Thank you. Thank you for the visions. Thank you for letting me see. Thank you for letting me change my fate._
_Thank you. To whatever this is. This brain thing._
_I'm 16. I'm a kid. But I'm also Su. And Su doesn't get chances. We make them._
_So I'll take it. I'll use it. I'll figure it out._
_Because I have to. Because I can._
MěiLíng stood in her doorway, watching me. Her expression was pleasant. Inside, her thoughts were sharp as glass. _She looks happy. She thinks she won. She thinks she's safe here._ MěiLíng smiled. _We'll see. I always compete with you, JiāYì. In every term. In beauty. In grace. In the affection of our brothers. In the attention of men. And I always win. This will be no different._
I felt it. A prickle on the back of my neck. I turned my head slightly, and my power stirred, unbidden.
_There it is again. That slimy feeling._
_Like someone's planning how to ruin me. In detail._
_I'm 16. I shouldn't know what that feels like. But I do._
_Because of her. Always her._
A flicker — fast, fragmented — MěiLíng, smiling, holding out a cup of tea to someone. A shadow falling. A gasp. She was trying to frame me.
I blinked, the vision gone. I understood… so far my future foreseeing skills haven't lied to me. My heart was beating fast. Something is going to happen. Soon.
_Tea. Again. She's boring. She's predictable._
_And she thinks I'm still the girl who cried over a hairpin._
_I'm not. I'm 16 and I'm done._
_Try me. I dare you._
I looked at MěiLíng, who was smiling at me sweetly.
I smiled back.
_You want to play. Fine._
_But this is my house now. Su house. Zhao house._
_And here, we don't cry. We fight._
The game, I realized, had already begun.
_Good. I was getting bored of being sad._
---